


We Ran As Wolves

by hellowitsme123



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Babies, Cousin Incest, Dire wolves, F/M, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I love them so much I can't help myself, Smut, babes, both show and book, i'm trash, jonrya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-05-18 15:57:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19337779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellowitsme123/pseuds/hellowitsme123
Summary: Jon tells Arya many truths.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Jonrya fic. Recently fell in love with them. This is a book/show combo. :)
> 
> I do not own Game of Thrones or its characters.

Arya wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself. Her and her people hadn’t slept in days. There were so many bodies to burn, and so many structures to rebuild. Death surrounded them still, lingering in the air like a heavy fog. 

With a breaking heart, she grabs a flask of some strong northern drink Jon had shared with her only a few days prior. Leaning against the wall she looks out at the dark Northern sky, its grey clouds keeping the sun hidden from her gaze. She misses the Bravossi sunshine and the smell of salt water in the breeze. 

Arya takes a deep breath and almost gags at the smell of ash and rotting flesh. She knows it will stay for months. Possibly until the early spring flowers bloom and wipe the scent away from Winterfell’s lands.

She takes another long drink from the flask, washing the taste of death from her mouth. She coughs slightly at the potent sting of alcohol and fermented wheat. 

“I was wondering if I’d find you up here.” 

Arya turns; her face unable to light-up like it usually does when Jon is near. 

“I’m surprised I was able to sneak up on you,” Jon says, coming to lean on the wall next to her. 

“My mind is elsewhere.”

Arya hands him the flask and he nods in thanks before taking a drink. 

“You weren’t at the feast last night,” he states. “It was in your honor.” 

“I was going to come but… I was distracted.” 

“By what, little wolf?”

Arya wants to smile at his new nickname for her but can't. “We’ve just burned thousands of men, women, and children, yet this morning we held a council to kill more… and I have a name on my list yet. A name that needs to be removed…”

“I understand,” he murmurs, taking another hearty drink before passing her the flask. 

Arya glances at him, his grey eyes dark and heavy from years of pain. 

“I know you do, Jon.” 

He takes hold of her then, hugging her into this chest so her long face can rest against his heart. He wonders how such a small and skinny thing can be so deadly. 

“You are too young to know these horrors, Arya.”

“Aye. But don’t forget -- so are you.” 

Jon pulls back and kisses her forehead gently. She relishes in the warmth of his lips and the comfort of his arms. For years she missed him, and now they are together again. However, Arya can’t help but feel Jon isn't fully allowing himself to be comfortable around her yet. 

“I supposed you are right, little wolf,” he sighs, squeezing her once more. 

Arya pulls back after a moment. Her thoughts turning over. “Why have you suddenly begun to call me that? What happened to little sister? Not that I don’t like the name but… why the change?”

Jon grows stiff and Arya knows from his face he has something important to tell her. 

“What is it, brother? Tell me, what troubles you.” 

He pauses, his eyes coming to face Arya’s again. He knows he cannot lie to her. Especially after her years at the House of Black and White. 

“I must tell you something. But you must swear not to tell a soul. Not even Sansa.” 

Arya raises one dark eyebrow at him. “What is it, Jon?”

“Please,” he begs. “Swear it.” 

Arya sees the torment on his face and hears the desperation in his tone. 

“I swear it.” 

Jon takes a breath as he places a hand on Arya’s neck as he used to when she was a child. He bends his head so close that they are but a whisper apart. His breath smells of ale and something sweet. Arya can’t help but think it’s the most pleasant smell she’s experienced in days. 

He closes his eyes, squeezing them like he’s trying to erase his thoughts. Arya cups his bearded cheek with her gloved hand. Jon grins gently against it, his head burrowing into it as if he can draw strength from her touch. 

“Tell me,” Arya says quietly. “You can trust me.” 

His eyes remain closed as draws breath. 

“I am not your brother,” he breathes out, his shoulders remaining tense. 

Arya stiffens. “What do you mean? Of course, you are my brother.” 

Jon open his eyes, and she sees that he is not lying. She would know if he was. 

Arya pulls back then and her heart breaks just slightly. 

“My father was not Ned Stark. It was Rhaegar Targaryen. My mother was Lyanna Stark.” 

“That cannot be," Arya says. Her mind reeling. 

Jon grabs her hands and holds her in place. “My mother knew that if Robert found out he would kill me. She asked father… your father to protect me.” 

“How do you know this?”

“Bran saw it. Sam confirmed it from a record at the Citadel.” 

“But that... makes you the rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms.” 

“Aye.” 

“Jon,” Arya whispers. Not sure of what to say. 

“So you see, you are not my little sister but my cousin...” 

Arya juts out her chin in defiance. “This does not change how I feel for you.” 

“And what do you feel for me?” Jon asks, his voice thick with fear. 

Arya glances at their joined hands and sees him rubbing his thumb across her knuckles. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking,” she says, her face tight. 

“But you do Arya. You can’t tell me that this doesn’t change things.” 

“It changes nothing.” 

“It changes everything.” 

Arya pulls her hands away and Jon can’t help the frown that mars his face. 

“You are a King," she states. 

“I don’t want it.”

“You know it doesn’t matter what you want. This life we live, it doesn’t give us a choice.” 

“You don’t sound like yourself, Arya.” 

“I’m no longer a girl born in the long summer, Jon. I will do my duty after this war is over. If I survive it.”

“I know we haven’t had a proper talk since we found each other again. But I think it’s time we do.” 

“There is too much work to be done. There is no time for talking.” 

“I just told you I am Rhaegar’s heir and you’re saying this to me?”

“Jon… I know what you want from me and it cannot be.” 

“Arya,” Jon says, taking her forearms in his grip, calling her name over and over so it becomes a prayer.

Finally, she looks up. Her gaze haunting. “I know that you died for me.” 

Jon stops, resting his forehead against hers. “Tell me why I died for you, little wolf.” 

“What you’re asking of me… it goes against everything father taught us.” 

“It doesn’t. I’m your cousin.” 

“But we were raised as siblings.” 

Jon’s breath is hot against her face and she wishes that they were born in another time. A place where they were strangers but two parts of one soul. A place without rules or responsibility. 

“It does not matter and you know it.” 

“I suppose that should have been a clue that you were Targaryen from the start brother.” 

“Do not say such things, Arya. You know we cannot change this thing between us.” 

“No… we can’t. But it doesn’t mean people will accept it. Cousin or not. What of the Dragon Queen?”

“She’ll have Six Kingdoms to rule. We’ll rule the North together.”

“You think she would ever agree to that? I know her eyes, Jon. I know her mind. She will want all Seven Kingdoms. Seven hells, she loves you!” 

“But I do not love her. I love another.” 

“One that you cannot love!”

“I have loved you since before you could walk Arya, don’t tell me you do not know! That you do not feel it.” 

Jon takes her hand and holds it to his heart. She feels it beating beneath her hand like one thousand wild horses. 

“Jon,” Arya whispers, her resolve crumbling. 

“There is a reason I died for you, little wolf. There is a reason I broke my vows for you and only you.”

“I left Bravos for you, you know. I heard they had killed you and I came back to avenge you.” 

“I know,” he says softly, his lips so close she can almost taste him. “I have no doubt you would have. Your fighting skills may have surpassed mine, little wolf.” 

“It is possible, dear cousin," she says slyly. 

Jon opens his eyes at the use of the word cousin. He can’t help but feel his heart lift just slightly. 

“We can rule together, Arya. You know that we are not meant to be a part.”

“Father once said I would marry a King.” 

Jon sucks in a breath. “Please do not say those words unless you mean them.” 

“I do not say things I do not mean, Jon. We do not have time for false words and lies. We have war and more troubled times ahead. We are family, we must stick together.” 

“You are more than my family, little wolf. You are my pack.” 

Realization covers Arya’s features and she raises her eyebrow once more at him.

“You can warg into ghost,” she states. 

“It is how I stayed alive before the Red Witch brought me back.” 

Arya feels her body tingle. She wants to throw her arms around Ghost for keeping her Jon attached to this world while she could not. 

“Ghost and Nymeria mated last night," Arya says, a blush warming her cheeks. 

“Aye, they did,” he said, his face mirroring hers. 

“You knew I can warg into Nymeria. You knew I was with her last night.” 

“When I sleep, I slip into his mind. Sometimes I cannot help it. Last night I felt like I was trapped. I woke up with your name on my lips and the taste of blood in my mouth.”

“Jon… I am not a wolf.” 

“But you are… more wolf than a girl as father used to say.” 

Arya couldn’t help but smile at the memory. “People will not like this, Jon.” 

“Since when did that ever matter to you?”

“It has always mattered, and you know it.” 

“We’ve suffered enough, Arya. My parentage means we can be what we’ve always been afraid to be. I died for you. You killed for me. Our wolves our mated. I am yours and you are mine. People will learn to understand. We are cousins. We are a good match to hold the North.”

“People will want to see you on the Iron Throne,” she argues. Arya can hear the Northerners supporting his claim already. 

“Even if that were to happen, it’s more reason for you to be by my side,” Jon claims, his arms wrapping around her waist. 

“You’ve thought this through,” Arya says, her hand coming to play with the buckle of his coat. 

“Are you angry with me?”

“I could never be angry with, Jon. At least not for long.” 

“Then be with me. Rule the Seven Kingdoms with me if we have too. I know you feel it, Arya. I felt it last night while we raced through the woods as wolves. I felt it the moment I laid eyes on you eighteen years ago. We were meant to live in this world together. We were meant to stand by each other’s sides.” 

“What of Bran? Of Sansa and Rickon?”

“They will understand it. They’ve always known we were more than just brother and sister.” 

“Not in this way, Jon. They will be confused.”

“We’re cousins, Arya. This is a fine match. One that might have been proposed either way.” 

“You won’t let this go, will you?”

“I know it’s a lot to take in. I know I am asking much of you. But you said it yourself you would do your duty after the war is over. Wouldn’t you rather it be with someone you love? Someone who will never try to change who you are? Our wolves have mated. It means more than you know.” 

“I know what it means, Jon. You forget what I have been through. You forgot that I am not ten years old any longer.” 

“Arya,” Jon breathes, pulling her closer so their lips are almost touching. “Why do you deny yourself?”

She almost chuckles. “Because I have some sense left in me, stupid.” 

Jon smiles and the world around her seems to fade. 

“If you want me to walk away from you now, I will. I do not want to force you. That is the last thing I want.” 

“You could never force me, Jon. You know that.” 

“I do…” 

They hold each other for a moment. Light snow has begun to fall, and the evening is upon them. Soon supper will be served, and another night of festivities will begin. They did just fight the dead and live to tell the tale after all. However, Arya can’t bring herself to think of such things when Jon’s arms are wrapped tightly around her. 

He is the only person that could ever make her feel safe. The only person besides her father who could make her feel wanted and loved. She knew Jon would never leave her again, at least not willingly. She had felt his love and passion for her last night during her wolf dream. Nymeria and Ghost were mates now. Fated together until their last breath. Arya knew what all of that meant for her and Jon now. Arya buries her face in Jon’s chest again, breathing in his scent to avoid new thoughts invading her mind. 

“They will come looking for us soon,” Jon says, pressing a kiss to the top of her crown. 

“Aye,” Arya says but makes no movement away from his warmth. 

“Will you join us this time? You need a proper meal. Many want to thank you for what you did.” 

Arya nods, pulling her face back to look at him. “We still have much to talk about.” 

“We do. But it can wait.”

Jon’s gaze flickers to Arya’s lips and then back to her grey eyes that are shining with amusement. 

“That can wait as well,” Arya grins a little. “I love you, Jon. For true. But please give me time.” 

“Take all the time you need. We have it now, little wolf.”

“I hope you are right.” 

With a kiss to his cheek, Arya slips from his hold, making her way towards the corridor leading down to the great hall. 

Jon can’t help but touch the pads of his leathered hand to his cheek. The spot where she has kissed tingling in an unfamiliar way. He smiles at the warmth that reaches his toes. 

“Are you coming?”

Jon looks up, Arya’s long face beckoning him forth, her hand extended. He walks and grips her hand, knowing the moment they twine together that he will follow her anywhere. Even to death… again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has become of Jon and Arya?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So much for this being a one-shot! Enjoy the smut ;)
> 
> Thank you for all the reviews on the last chapter. This fandom is awesome!

Jon often wondered what life would be like if they never left Winterfell. 

Would the man he once called his father still be alive? 

Would Sansa be married to some King or High Lord? 

Would Robb be married and already have babies running around Winterfell? 

Would Lady Catelyn still hate him? 

Would Rickon be a good fighter? 

Would Bran have become a knight and climbed the tallest mountains or maybe even The Wall?

Jon sighs and knows his thoughts are useless. The dead would have come no matter where they went or ended up. Had they stayed at Winterfell they would have all been dead. Marching south with the Night Kings army as corpses. He supposed that things were meant to be as they were. No matter how awful or painful. 

His mind is disrupted when a delicate but calloused hand wraps around his bare middle. His thoughts go from death to life. The warm of her filling him through his bones. Jon smiles down at the top of Arya’s dark brown head. Her long hair a nest of wild curls and smelling of dirt and winter roses. She’s still asleep, tired from their travel and nights wrapped up in the depths of each other. 

He wonders if Arya wishes they had never left Winterfell. For a moment he thinks of what would have become of them had they stayed. Would he have ever found out his true parentage? Would he still have been able to take her as a wife? Jon thinks of her father’s words to her, “You will marry a King.”

Ned Stark was right about that. Maybe he knew all along this would come to be. 

Jon can’t help but think for a moment that Arya could have been married off to another. His body tenses at the thought of another’s hands running over her delicate but strong curves. Of another tasting the honey between her legs. He pulls her tighter to him, his burned hand flexing against the soft flesh of buttock. Arya, his little wolf, makes a sound more like an animal than human. In her sleep, she seems to sense his distress, rubbing her nude body against him so that his mind beings to stir to more pleasant thoughts. 

They’d only been married a few months and had recently taken a trip to Dragonstone to visit his Aunt. Daenerys was the Queen of the Six Kingdoms. It took much toil for it to happen, and many more bodies had to be burned, but in the end, his dear Aunt had granted the Norths freedom-- as long as Jon became King. If you had asked him if this was ever possible, he would have laughed and said you’d been dreaming, but he realized now that nothing was impossible. Especially when Arya was involved. 

Arya, despite her initial distrust of Dany, had gained her friendship and love shortly after the battle with the Other. Arya always had a way of making allies and friends with all sorts of people, and Dany had quickly fallen for Arya’s fierce nature and charm. It wasn’t surprising that Arya had a love for his Aunt, as she had always admired strong women, specifically from the house of the Dragon. 

Once they’d conquered Kings Landing and captured Cersei, Dany even let Arya swing the sword that killed her. It was an odd thing, to be proud of your beloved for giving someone the kiss of death, but Jon knew how important it was for Arya to kill the now dead Queen. She was on her list for many years, and Arya needed her prayer to be complete. Dany had been pleased and a little surprised that Arya asked to be the executioner, but when she heard his little wolfs story, Dany was more than happy to oblige her. 

Now, how he and Arya ended up in their marriage bed as King and Queen of the North was a much more complicated story. One that was not easy and had taken over a year of time. Jon decided that he needed to let Dany take the Seven Kingdoms, but with the plan in mind that he would eventually tell her of his true parentage. Jon wanted Dany to trust him. To understand that he had no desire to be the King of the Seven Kingdoms. He had to ignore her advances and thoughts of marriage, but with war always so close it had been easier than he had initially thought. 

For many moons, Jon did his best to woo his little wolf into his plans of ruling the North with her by his side. Eventually, their love affair went from just a small flickering candle to a roaring fire. He was thankful Arya was good at sneaking around because he was not. It shocked him that nobody had a clue they were lovers, as sometimes he failed in keeping his hands off her in public. When things had settled, and Dany named Queen, he told her of his true bloodline. For a moment he thought she’d behead him right there in front of the Iron Throne, but eventually, her shock passed, and he revealed his plans to her.

The North, of course, wanted to see Jon on the Iron Throne, but with the help of Arya and the eventual backing of Sansa, Bran, and Rickon, Dany agreed to let Jon rule over the North as King. The one condition she asked was that Jon’s first son or daughter would become her heir and eventually be fostered at Dragonstone when they came of age. At first, when Jon broke the news to Arya, she had trouble with the idea of letting their future pup out her arms. However, she knew it was a fair agreement. One that would bring peace and understanding throughout the realm. 

When it came time to tell their family of his plan to wed Arya, it was more shocking than the discovery of his true parentage. It had taken them a while to get used to their “brother” and sister kissing, but eventually, they came to understand that Jon was not meant to be without Arya, as Arya was not meant to be without him. 

A low growling sound came from Arya’s sleeping lips and Jon wondered what type of wolf dream she was having. Judging by the way she was rubbing herself upon him, he could only guess Ghost and Nymeria were not locked in a familiar mating dance. Soon they would have little white and grey pups running around. Jon could not wait for that to happen. It would be nice to have more dire wolves roaming the North, protecting their people and their eventual children. 

With Arya’s ministrations pulling him from his memories once more, he couldn’t help but feel aroused himself. With such a strong connection to Ghost, Jon wasn’t sure he was still more man than wolf. Especially when loving Arya was involved. Deciding he was ready to wake the little wolf he slowly ran his fingertips down the column of her spine. Arya whimpered; her nude body now covered in gooseflesh. The blazing fire in their chambers kept them warm, so he knew the cold wasn’t affecting her. 

Jon pulled himself away from his wife, and she growled. 

“Wake up little wolf,” he gently whispered in her ear before bringing his nose to nuzzle its outer shell. Arya’s eyes began to flutter open as he bit down on her earlobe. 

“Jon,” she says, her voice thick with sleep.

“You were practically mating with my leg, little wolf. I thought I would wake you up so you could have a taste of the real thing.”

Arya’s eyes open fully then, awake and alert. She sees him now positioned above her and her breath begins to come in short puffs. 

“Nymeria is in heat.” 

“I bet we will have a litter of pups soon.”

“Aye,” Arya smiles, “I hope we soon have a pup too...” 

Jon smiles, the thought of their own little wolf pup running around Winterfell. All dark features and smiles. Their laughter filling the air. 

“I suppose we should get to work then,” he murmurs, his lips hovering dangerously close to hers.

“Kiss me.”

“As my lady wolf commands," he purrs.

Arya smiles as Jon brings his lips to cover hers. Usually, he would start out slow and begin to build, however, he’s already aroused from the talk of babes and mating. His body is on high alert and he feels as though there is a fire burning within him. 

Arya moans deeply, the vibrations tingling his lips and spurring him forward. He remembers back to the day they first made love under the Godswood. They’d been dancing around each other for months. Touching secretly, giving each other small kisses when nobody was looking. 

Then one day Jon discovered Arya teaching Gendry how to shoot arrows and he was beside himself with jealousy. Arya thought it was funny, but of course, he did not. What began as her easing his bruised manhood turned into hasty kisses and torn clothes. That night they bound themselves together under the old gods. He’d never lose sight of that night. He’d treasure it until his dying breath. 

Arya flipped him over, breaking him out of his reverie. 

“You are distracted, my King.” 

Jon looks up at his Queen, her face alight with mirth. He reaches up and brushes his knuckles against her cheekbone. 

“Aye, I was remembering our first night under the stars.” 

“You have me in your bed and you’re thinking about another time you bedded me?” she laughs. 

“It does sound silly when you say it like that, little wolf.” 

Arya moves against Jon’s hard length and his breath stills. She leans down and kisses his muscled chest, her warm tongue leaving a trail of sweetness until she reaches his neck and sucks. 

“You think too much my King,” she says hotly in his ear. 

“Then help me clear my mind," he commands. 

Arya smirks and kisses him harshly, her teeth clicking against his before she takes his lower lip and bites down. Jon moans and flips her over, causing her to gasp. 

When he feels her delicate fingers in his dark curls, he knows what she wants. Jon kisses her breasts one by one, lightly blowing on each nipple until they stand pert and dainty like dusty roses. Before long he’s working his way down her taut belly, lavishing her belly button like an altar. 

As he gets closer to the treasure between her thighs, he can smell her arousal and it makes his cock twitches in anticipation. He kisses lower until he feels Arya tense, awaiting his special kiss upon her cunt. 

“Jon,” she breathes out, almost as if she’s begging him to continue with just his name on her lips. 

He gives her what she wants, his mouth finding her center. He flattens his tongue against her, lapping up her juices like he’s a starving man. Arya’s back arches up from the bed, her hands grasping at the furs beneath her fingers. He uses his skills to bring her to the brink over and over again, her hands grasping his head and holding him to her nub as he sucks her hard. 

Arya howls as she reaches her peak, her legs locked around his shoulders as she spasms and cries his name. He licks and sucks her swollen folds until she’s almost laughing with pleasure. 

After a few moments, he feels her fingers tugging his curls, beckoning him upwards. He smiles, his eyes alight. There is nothing more than Jon loves than being between her thighs, smelling her, tasting her, hearing her sweet cries. The only thing he thinks that beats it is being inside her. Feeling her come around him as he spills his seed within her, claiming her as his time and time again. 

She takes his lips again, no doubt tasting herself on him. She flips them once more with a growl and a laugh, their sweaty foreheads bumping together carelessly. 

He wants to say something but before he can she’s placed him inside her. A hot breath leaves his mouth as she begins to ride him. Her breasts bounce as he places his hands upon them, feeling the creaminess under his rough fingers. Arya leans forward, placing her forehead against his and looking into his eyes. 

“Faster, my wolf. My king.” 

Jon abides. Grabbing her hips and thrusting himself inside her as she bears down on him. They both cry out, flashes of wolves, dirt and night skies flying under their eyelids. At that moment they are more than just human. More than just wolves. They are souls and light and nothing at all. 

With all his strength he turns Arya around, taking her from behind so they may be one with their wolves. With reckless abandon he mates with her, his teeth biting down on her shoulder as one hand rubs her center with vigor. She cries out, pulsing around his length as he lets out a howl of his own. Jon does not hold back, spilling his seed deep inside her before collapsing on their bed of furs. 

They lay there for a moment, catching their breath and smiling up at the stone ceiling. Before long he feels her birds’ nest of dark waves upon his chest and he pulls her closer to him. Stroking her back like a lullaby. 

“I love you, Jon,” she says then. Arya knows she doesn’t need to say it but feels the need to tell him. 

He reaches for her again, kissing her lips so lightly she barely feels it. There is such a tenderness to him it often makes her want to cry. 

“I love you too, little wolf. More than I ever thought possible.”

Arya kisses him once more before laying against his side. Content and happy to be with him. 

As they drift off, the morning sun shining upon their naked bodies, Jon no longer wonders what would have become of them if they never left Winterfell. Instead, he focuses on the woman in his arms, and the future ahead of them. Their father would have wanted it that way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arya has some news

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short one! Hope you enjoy. :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own GOT or any of it's characters

Arya was surprised Jon hadn’t noticed yet. 

As her hand came to touch the gentle swell of her belly, she smiled. 

The maester told her she was three moons gone already, but she wasn’t surprised. When she missed her first blood, she had been hopeful, but didn’t want to get jump to conclusions. After the second month she’d been sure she was with child. However, she decided to wait for the third month before she told Jon or confirmed it with the maester. 

It was shocking to her how easy it was to keep Jon away from the truth of her condition. He did not question her when she said she’d rather walk than ride, or have sex then practice with needle. Arya knew that she was Jon’s weakness. All she had to do to distract him with a kiss to his lips and place a hand below his waist and his mind would go blank from whatever question or thought he was about to ask her. 

Now that her body was swelling, however, she knew he would notice. Her breasts were sore and heavy as well. A sure sign she was creating a little pup within her. 

Arya smiled at the thought. A babe of her and Jon’s creation. She prayed to the Godswood that it would be a boy with their father’s hair and Jon’s eyes. She wouldn’t mind though if he looked like Robb. Sometimes she’d think of her sweet brother gone too soon from this world and wondered if he’d reincarnate into one of her babes. It was a beautiful idea. 

It was a perfect spring day with the flowers blooming brightly after a hard week of rain. The earth was soft and wet under her feet and the air smelled of hay and dirt. 

She found Jon under the bright red leaves of the Godswood, tending to Longclaw just like their father used to do with Ice. 

Arya was quiet in her approach, content to watch him concentrate on the sharpness of his beloved blade. His mouth was pressed in a hard line, his eyes focused on his task. Before long she was standing behind him, clearing her throat. 

Jon jumped and a loud laugh escaped Arya’s mouth, warming him down to his toes. 

“Got you,” she said, wrapping her arms around his slender shoulders. 

“You scared me little wolf. I am holding a sharp bald you know.”

“Aye. But you would never cut yourself with your own blade.”

Jon smiles and puts down Longclaw so he can take Arya into his arms. She goes willingly, pressing her lips to his in a deep kiss. When he goes to pull away, she brings him in deeper, allowing her tongue to tangle with his so she can taste the ale he had with breakfast. Eventually she pulls back, her forehead resting on his so that their breath mingles together like passing winds. 

“Did you miss me already little wolf? It has only been a few hours.” 

“Maybe… or maybe I have just received the most wonderful news.” 

Jon looks at her curiously. He brings his burned hand up to cup her cheek as she burrows her flesh against its roughness in a loving gesture. 

“What news, my love?”

Arya grabs his hand from her face, dragging it down her body so it runs across her swollen breasts before reaching the gentle swell of her belly. It’s hardly noticeable to anyone but her, but she knows that Jon will feel it. He knows her body almost better than she does. 

“Is that?” he asks, his face contorting as his mind puts the puzzle together. 

“A pup of our own,” Arya breathes out. 

The look on Jon’s face when she says those words is a look Arya knows she will remember forever. It’s as if he’s swallowed the sun whole and its beams are shooting from beneath his skin to light the world. A smile she’s never seen covers his face and she understood that loving this beautiful man is the best decision she has ever made in her short life.

“You are certain?”

“I am three moons gone.”

“Seven hells! Three moons?”

Arya nods as Jon looks at her stomach again, his eyes staring at her like he can see the babe growing within her womb. 

“You have known this whole time, have you?”

“Aye… but I wanted to be sure. I did not want to get our hopes up…”

“This is why you haven’t been riding nor training with me?” 

“I did not want to risk it if it were true.” 

“You’ve seen the maester already?”

“Yes, just came from there. He confirmed it for me. We will have a little pup running around Winterfell in about six moons.” 

“Six moons…,” Jon whispers, his fingers stroking the babe beneath her skin. Arya shivers, and thinks that Jon will have a hard time keeping his hands off her more than usual in the next six moons. 

“I think it is a boy,” Arya says, Jon’s eyes snapping back up to meet hers. 

“Have you seen him in a dream?”

“Not yet… in my mind I imagine what he may look like, but it is just a feeling.” 

“I would love a son with your wildness and sharp mind.”

“I want him to look like you… or maybe like Robb.” 

Jon smiles fondly at that. “Aye, I would like that too.” 

Jon reaches for her and brings her close so that she’s almost sitting in his lap. 

“You have made me happier than I ever dreamed, little wolf.”

“You are my forever, Jon. This only makes forever a little sweeter.”

“If it is a boy, I think we should name him Robb,” Jon says. 

“I thought the same. Sansa has been dreaming of naming her first born after father for too long. I don’t want to take that away from her.”

“Do you think her and the Donishman are a good match?” Jon asks suddenly, his hand still rubbing her belly. 

Arya looks at him curiously. “I suppose we will have to ask her. That would require her to move to the South again… I am not sure she’ll like that.”

“You might be correct in that.” 

“Why are you suddenly trying to marry off my sister?”

“I am not… I just was thinking about how she watches us when she thinks we will not see. She shows on her face how much she longs for what we have. How much she wants a child and a family of her own. I would like for her to be as happy as we are.” 

“Not everyone can be as lucky as us, my love.” 

Jon smiles sadly, “I know, little wolf. But I would like to try to find a love match for her. Don’t you agree?”

“Of course. I do not even know if she wants to marry anymore… Robin has grown up to be a charming boy… maybe she’d find comfort in the Vale with our cousin.” 

“Sisters marrying cousins… we will be talked about forever in history,” Jon smiles. 

“Oh, hush you.” 

Jon reaches for her lips again, caressing them tenderly and with so much love that Arya’s heart aches. Her soul sings when he is near and bleeds when he is away. She never thought she could love and be loved so fiercely, yet the gods had blessed them. Maybe it was payment for all they had suffered. Though, she did not care for such thoughts anymore. They were alive and well. Her remaining family members thriving in their new roles and lives. 

When their lips part, Arya rests her head against Jon’s shoulder, his hand stroking the growing babe within her. He kisses the crown of her head and hugs her closer to his side. 

Soon they would be watching their babe grow and play amongst them in the Godswood. But for now, Arya was happy to spend time with her mate breathing in the fresh flowers of spring.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10 Years later....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This keeps growing!! Hope you enjoy. Please review. 
> 
> I do not own GOT or any of its characters. This is all for fun!

King Jon Targaryen knew exactly where he’d find his little wolf. 

She was hiding again, he knew. Unable to face the day that they both understood would always come too quickly. 

That morning when he’d woke to a cold bed, he’d quickly gotten dressed. He wore his finest black clothing, adorned with both the Targaryen and Stark sigils for today’s event. Picking up Longclaw and securing it at his side, he called for Ghost and set off to attend to his wife. 

Even though Jon knew where Arya was hiding, he caught her scent in the breeze, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Ghost whined, knowing his mate Nymeria was close as well. Guarding her master, no doubt. 

His footsteps crunched in the newly fallen snow. Winter was coming, which didn’t make it easier on Arya for what was about to happen. Hard times were on their way, and Arya knew she couldn’t afford to let her emotions get the best of her… yet that was never her strong suit. His either. Both quick to tears they were, and both of them just as attached the thing they were about to lose… but Arya understandably more so. 

As Jon approached the Godswood, he saw his little wolf curled against Nymeria, her fingers running through the dire wolfs thick grey fur unsteadily. He knew she heard him coming. No doubt smelled him a mile away, but she didn’t make any movement towards him, knowing that he would come to her regardless. 

He approached her carefully, sitting on a stone next to her and looking on at her tear stained face. 

“Arya…” he breathed out, unsure of what to say. 

“No,” she said harshly. “I do not want to hear your words of comfort.”

“This day had to come eventually, my love.” 

“And we are just going to sit here and let it happen?”

“We made an agreement.” 

“It was stupid of us, Jon!”

Jon eased himself on to the cold ground, his hands cupping Arya’s red cheeks. Her grey eyes looked upon him coldly. 

“It was not stupid, Arya. We have gone through this time and time again. It must be done.” 

“And what if we do not allow it?” 

“We will start a war and lose the North.” 

“Maybe I can talk to Daenerys. She may understand if I can help her see reason.” 

“My love. Ned is excited to go. He loves Dany and Drogo. He even loves the coldness of Dragonstone. He will do well there.” 

“He is our son, Jon. He is only ten!” 

“I know. But the time has come. He will be King of the Six Kingdoms one day… he has to learn.” 

“He is not ready. He is too innocent, too pure for this awful world.” 

Arya couldn’t help the catch in her throat as she felt a swell of emotions come to the surface. She hiccupped and cried, Jon embracing her tightly against his chest while Nymeria and Ghost nudged her feet.

“He will not be lost to us, my love. We will visit him when we can. We will write ravens every day if you would like. Dany will never harm him. She loves him like her own.” 

“He is my pup! He does not belong there. He belongs in the North with his pack.” 

“He will have his wolf with him, my love, and he will never lose his family. In the future he will have a wife of his own and babes to take care of. If the gods are good, one day he will command all Six Kingdoms! You must not think of him this way, Arya. This is his duty, as well as ours.” 

“The last time a Stark named Ned went south he died,” she said weakly. 

“Arya…” Jon whispered, stroking her hair gently as he rocked her. “My love, you must stop this. You adore Dany. Things are not the same as they once were. Ned is loved and protected.” 

His words only made her cry harder, and Jon wondered for the first time if they should have never gotten married. He knew sending their first born to Dragonstone would be hard on Arya, but he never thought she would take it with this much difficulty. 

“Hush now, my love. It will be all right. You will see.” 

Arya clung to him as if he were her only lifeline. He wasn’t sure how long he held her for, but as her tears dried, he whispered words of love and comfort in her ear. 

“I am sorry, Jon,” Arya said eventually. Her voice raspy and thick with emotion. 

Jon pulled away from her, leaning his forehead against hers. 

“For what, little wolf?”

“I do not want you to think that I regret our choices. I would marry you time and time again to have this life that we have created, so that we could be together… He’s just my first, my sweet Ned.” 

Jon kissed her lips as if he whispered her name. “I understand. It is hard for me too.” 

“I know. But you are right. For reasons unknown to me he is nothing like our father, and everything like the Targaryen you never had the chance to become. He loves Dany and Drogon, he enjoys Dragonstone. He will make a wonderful King and I have you to thank for that.” 

“He has us to thank, my Queen. He has taken after you with his fire and passion. He actually wants to rule. He has the taste for it. The gods blessed us with him, and we cannot let it be for naught.” 

“You are right, my King.” 

“And do not forget we have a Princess who will rule the North one day. Visenya is losing her big brother who she adores more than words. She will need us once he is gone.”

Jon watched Arya smile at the thought of the silver-haired beauty most likely running through the yards, helping her brother prepare for his long Journey south. Though their little she-pup was now five, Jon still remembers the look of shock upon Arya’s face when a silver-haired babe was placed into her arms after birth. Jon had been just as shocked. Not only because his prayer of having a little she-wolf was answered, but because she clearly had inherited the Targaryen features, unlike himself. Naming her Visenya seemed like the only true choice for their little dragon-wolf. However, the fact that she looked like a Targaryen didn’t stop her from being a true Northerner.

Jon and Arya had both been glad that Dany didn’t ask to foster Visenya instead of Ned once she looked upon the growing child. Though Visenya looked like a dragon, Arya and Jon both new their little she-pup would not fare well in the south. She took after Arya too much. She had a wildness in her and her blood sang while touching Northern soil. 

It was quite funny how it all worked out. His Northern boy who looked like Ned Stark more a Dragon than wolf and her daughter the exact opposite. 

He wondered if the gods were trying to be funny, or if it meant something greater they both could not yet understand. 

Arya was lost in thought for a moment as stroked her face lovingly to bring her back to him. 

“Visenya is a strong little wolf,” Arya said. “She will do fine when Ned is gone.” 

“Aye, you are right. But she still needs her mother to guide her.” 

Arya leaned forward to rub her nose against Jon’s, their breath mingling together in the cold morning air. 

“I was thinking,” Jon said after a few moments, his voice quiet. “Maybe we should foster a few children from our banners. We need more laughter around here, children to play with Visenya and train with her.” 

“I think that is a wonderful idea. She would like that I think. I was also thinking of something else.” 

Jon arched an eyebrow at her in curiosity. “What is it, my Queen.” 

“What if we gave her another member of her own pack?”

Jon pulled away in shock. The gods had blessed them with two children. Ned a year after they’d married and Visenya five long years later. 

“Are you with child?”

“And if I told you that I was, how would my King react?”

Jon held her close and kissed her hard on the mouth. 

“Your King would react with happiness and love.” 

Jon gazed upon Arya, now a woman grown. The mother of his two beautiful children and a warrior in her own right. His Queen would never stop surprising him. This he knew for true. 

“It is too early to know yet but… I missed my moonblood and I had a dream last night.” 

Jon hugged her closer. “You saw our pup?”

Arya nodded. “Visenya was holding the babe. His head full of curly copper hair and eyes shining blue like the sea. She called him little Robb and kissed his chubby cheeks with as much love as she handles her dire wolf.”

Jon smiled at the image and took Arya’s chin between his gloved fingers. “I know this image is what you crave, little wolf. You know I have wished for something similar.” 

Jon was taken back in his mind to when Arya had been heavy with Ned. She had been determined to name the unborn babe Robb if it was a boy. However, one look at the newborn pups soft brown hair and long face made Arya change her mind. With permission from Sansa, both he and Arya had named the babe Eddard Benjin Targaryen. Jon took a breath and held it for a moment, trying to calm himself. Even though the memory was a good one, he could not help the anxiety that now began to build in him.

Arya frowned, seeing the worry creep into Jon’s features. She sat up, her eyes now dry of tears, but face etched with concern for her King. 

“What is it, my love?”

Jon smiled sadly, kissing each of her cheeks in worship. 

“I can never hide my feelings from you.” 

“I know you too well, just as you know me. What is it? Tell me before my mind runs away with me.” 

“Is it safe, little wolf? To have a pup after so many years? I know not of these things.” 

Arya smiled, “I know not why the gods have left so many moons between our children, or why they chose to send us little Robb now… but if he is here already, then he was meant for us, my King. We cannot stop the wheels of fate. You know this.” 

“You know that I worry. Even if you were five years younger, I would still worry for you and the babe.” 

“I may look like your mother, but I am not Lyanna. We watched Visenya with little Robb in my dream. I will live a long life with you Jon. I am only a woman of two and eight. Do not fear, my King. It will take more than birthing a babe for the God of Death to take me.” 

Jon took her face in his hands and pulled her lips to his in a fierce kiss. Surprised by the sudden shift in weight, Arya fell into him, causing Jon to topple over onto the cold ground. They both let out a bark of laughter before Arya sealed her lips over his once more. 

Jon gripped his little wolf against him as Arya tangled her small hands in his brown curls. Slipping her tongue past his lips, a small moan escaped his throat, vibrating down to Arya’s toes. Even after all this time together, they both could never have enough of each other. Sansa once said it was like they were two halves of one whole. If one was away the other was empty. Jon agreed, for as the years went on, he grew more and more starved for his bride. Arya was the only one he could fully trust, the only one who understood him and loved him like he was some precious jewel. Together they were stronger, and the North knew it. Their love was a love meant for songs and romantic tales. A love that most could never understand. 

Just as Jon’s hand ventured beneath his wife skirts the sound of giggling could be heard throughout the Godswood. 

Arya pulled away and kissed Jon lightly on the lips once more. “We have company, my love.”

“Mother! Father!” a small, feminine voice called. “Ned says to stop kissing and come break fast with us.” 

Arya and Jon laughed, knowing that Ned and Visenya weren’t far from the Godswood. 

“Come children, show yourselves to us. We know you are there,” the King commanded in his deepest voice. 

Arya almost rolled her eyes. Jon could hear the children laugh at his words and Arya smiled at the sound. Jon knew she would miss their sweet voices, harmonizing together at every meal and as they practiced archery in the courtyard. He would too. Jon gave her a knowing look before he stood and offered her his hand. Just as they righted themselves their children came into view. 

Ned held Visenya’s hand, a look of childlike disgust on his Northern features at his parents displays of affection. Visenya smiled brightly, wearing a simple pale blue winter dress that made her grey eyes shine and her silver hair look paler than the snow. She was truly a vision, and Jon still tried to understand why the gods had blessed and cursed them with such a beauty. Every man in the Seven Kingdoms would be after her hand when she came of age. Jon was not looking forward to that day. 

As soon as he finished his thought, Jon saw Ned let go of Visenya’s hand when she tugged on it. Jon smiled wide and held open his arms for her to jump into. Soon his silver-haired dragon was flying into his arms and he swung her around in their morning ritual. After he rained kisses on her long face, he set her on the ground so she could greet her mother with a fierce hug.

Ned approached. He’d entered the phase of being old enough to crave less affection. Especially where Jon was concerned, unsure if he should begin to greet his father as a man instead of a boy. 

Jon could see the conflict on his face because it was the same look that came upon his face in these moments. His son looked so much like him and Ned Stark that sometimes it was painful. Jon made his decision for him, wrapping his arm around his small shoulders and giving him a squeeze. 

“Today is the big day, son. How are you feeling?”

Ned smiled, “I am good, father. I spoke with Aunt Dany this morning in the kitchens. We both couldn’t sleep and we had a warm drink together before the sun rose. She is very kind. She told me more about Dragonstone and what I’ll do there. She even said that I could ride Drogon when I am older! She said he’s never taken to anyone so quickly… except for you maybe!” 

Jon smiled at his son’s enthusiasm. He knew that he would feel sad and homesick when he realized Dragonstone was his new home, but he was adaptable. He would do well there, and Dany would treat him like her own. She had loved Ned since he was just a babe. Arya said it was because he looked so much like him, and she could see Dany had never quite gotten over her love for him. Of course, he thought that was ridiculous, but a small part of him knew that his wife was right. 

Jon looked over at Arya and could see a sad smile on her face as she hugged little Visenya closer to her. 

“That is wonderful. You will have many adventures at Dragonstone,” he said to his son. Kissing him on the forehead. 

“Do you think Aunt Dany will let me ride Drogon when I’m older?” Visenya asked as she played with the leather belt holding Needle at Arya’s waist. 

“You never know, little one,” Jon said. 

“This will not be for a long time, my love. Right now, Drogon might mistake you for a goat and gobble you whole!” Arya teased, making a growling sound and tickling her sides. 

Visenya squealed as she tried to get away from her mother, causing Jon and Ned to laugh. Visneya hid behind Jon’s legs as Ned took the chance to go to his mother and hug her closely. Jon watched as tears came to Arya’s eyes and she kissed his forehead as only a mother could. 

“Do not cry, Mother! We will see each other on my name day, won’t we?”

“Yes, my love. But you cannot stop me from shedding a tear or two. You know this.”

Ned nodded and kissed his mother’s cheek. 

“Come. Let us break fast together before the guard comes looking for us,” Jon said. 

“You heard your father, pups. Go on now. We will be right behind you.” 

“Okay!” Visneya cried. “Last one to the great hall is a dead goat!” 

Before anyone could say a word Visenya ran off, her bright giggles peeling through the Godswood. Ned couldn’t help but laugh before he followed his sister like the dutiful big brother he was. Chasing after her with one last look at his parents. 

“Our daughter is a strange creature, just like her mother,” Jon teased, pulling Arya into his side. 

Arya smiled. “I do love her for it though. I’m glad she inherited something from me. If I hadn’t birthed her the North would have sworn she was a dragon through and through.” 

“Aye, but a wolf she is. Fierce and loyal. Thought she definitely has the wings of a dragon.” 

“Aye. She does.” 

Jon grabbed Arya’s hand and kissed it. “Do you want to tell the children about the babe?”

“Not yet. Though I believe I am with child I would like to wait a few moons to be sure. The dream felt real, but it is a delicate thing.” 

“If this is what you desire, so be it. We will tell Ned at his name day feast if you are well enough to travel.” 

“Nothing could stop me.” 

Jon looked on proudly at his wife and kissed her once more. 

“Aye. This I know.” 

Jon took Arya’s arm and walked them from the Godswood, Ghost and Nymeria trailing dutifully behind them. Though by nightfall their son would be on to his new home, Jon felt oddly content. Ned would be all right and so would Arya in time. With a new babe on the way, Visenya growing, and a few foster children, Winterfell would be alive and bustling. 

Winter was coming and the pack would always survive. Ned Stark had taught them well.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smut and babies... what more could you ask for?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was on a roll! Hope you enjoy. Please review :)
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own GOT or any of its characters

Arya touched the squirming babe inside her belly and smiled. 

Almost eight moons had passed since Ned had been sent to Dragonstone. Visenya had just celebrated her sixth name day and was practicing archery with the fostered Karstark boy in the courtyard while she watched on with pride. For such a young girl, Visenya was already extremely skilled with a bow. She would be a great warrior someday if she so pleased. 

Having Ned in Dragonstone was difficult, but her eldest seemed to be enjoying himself. When they had visited for his name day five moons ago, he was thriving. He enjoyed his studies about Targaryen history and learning swordplay from the unsullied and spear work from Grey Worm. Dany was pleased with his eagerness and sharp mind. Jon was very happy that everything seemed to be working out quite well. He was glad that Ned was pleased with his position and not trying to escape to the wall with Tormund and the wildings. Arya knew that had her and Jon not married, that is where he would have gone in a heartbeat. 

“Aren’t you cold, little wolf?”

Arya looked to see her King approaching, looking dark and comely in his winter robes with ghost following closely at his side. He placed his hands on her lightly covered shoulders, smiling when he saw Visenya make a bullseye. 

He abandoned his worry for Arya in that moment, clapping brightly for his child as she celebrated her win. 

Visenya looked up and grinned at her parents, doing a small curtsy. 

“Well done, my love,” Jon called to her. 

“Thank you, father.” 

“You are getting better, my sweet,” Arya added. 

“Thank you, mother.” 

As Visenya turned back to her practice, Jon turned his concern back to his wife. 

“You look as if you are dressed for spring. It is freezing out her, Arya.” 

“You forget I am carrying this large babe around. I feel as if the hot spring from the walls runs through me.” 

“You know I worry for you. I do not want you catching a cold.” 

“I am fine, my love. Just uncomfortable.” 

Jon took a sit next to her, kissing her forehead gently.

“If you are sure.” 

“Have you finished for the day?”

“Aye. I actually bring news. Sansa will be here within a few days.”

Arya’s face brightened. “All the way for Dorn? In this weather?” 

"She says she hopes to make it before our child is born. She would like to be here to take care of you."

Arya smiled, “That is great news. Though she will need to arrive soon if she plans to make it before Robb arrives.” 

Jon smiled at the name. Though there was no way to know for sure if their babe was in fact a boy, Arya insisted that she was to bare a son with copper hair and blue eyes like the sea. She had seen it many times now. 

“You think he is coming that soon?”

“Aye. At least, I hope. Did Sansa say if her husband is joining her?”

“She comes alone. Syrian had business to attend to and was detained. But she brings Jory with her.”

Arya beamed at the thought of getting to see Sansa’s youngest son again. “Wonderful. The last time we saw him he was just a babe. I hope he and Visenya will get along.” 

“I am sure they will, my love. Visenya is just like you. She gets along with most anyone.”

“You speak the truth, my King.” 

The babe shifted beneath her hand before giving a swift kick against her spinal cord. Arya let out a groan. Jon was right at her side before she could even open her eyes. 

“What is it, little wolf? Are you well?”

Arya let out a laugh, “This babe is going to be a fighter. His kicks are strong.” 

“Come, we were supposed to see Maester Tarley this morning and we got distracted.” 

Arya smiled and blushed red at the memory of Jon’s mouth between her thighs. “You mean you got distracted, my love.” 

Jon smirked and kissed her quickly. “You have a point there. I find you too much in this state.” 

“You mean swollen and sweaty despite the cold?”

“Beautiful and thick with babes,” he whispered against her ear. “My scent surrounds you when you are like this. Everyone knows you are mine, little wolf.”

Arya felt a twinge beneath her skirts, her entire body heating at his words. “As if they did not know before,” she laughed. 

Jon smiled and kissed her lips once more. “Come, once you have been looked over, we will have a small rest before supper.”

“Rest?” she asked, quirking an eyebrow. 

“On my honor, my Queen.” 

“Then I shall hope your honor finds itself indisposed, for I would like to finish what we started this morning,” Arya said lowly in his ear. “Now help me up, husband. Your wife is in need of assistance to stand these days.” 

Jon, now flushed, rose from his spot next to her and took her offered hand. 

“Are you sure you’re up for it, wife?” He challenged her, pressing himself against her back, his lips close to his ear. 

Arya shivered. “Always, my King. Always.” 

Arya gave him a demur smile before walking away with Nymeria quickly appearing at her side. 

“She will be the death of me ghost,” Arya heard Jon tell his trusted friend and she couldn’t help but grin. She loved the power she held over her husband. Though, she was not much better than him. One kiss on a special spot behind her ear and she was his to manipulate. 

It only took a few strides for Jon to catch up to her, placing his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze. 

“I wanted to tell you that I also received word from Ned this morning. He wrote me a long story about my birth father. It was quite sweet actually.” 

Arya smiled. “I trust our son is well?” 

“He is. He said he misses you daily, he sends you a kiss. As well as little Robb.” 

“Hopefully Dany will let him come visit soon after he is born. I would like for them to know each other as much as possible.”

“She will, my love. Do not worry.” 

After they arrived at Maester Tarley’s room, he quickly checked her over. He confirmed what Arya already knew, that Robb could be hear any day now. By the way her belly hung low, she would guess in the next day or so. 

“You can help him along by staying active, your grace. Walking daily should do the trick.” 

“Aye, thank you, Sam. And call me Arya! How many years have I been telling you this now?” 

Sam smiled. “It’s a hard habit to break. Forgive me… Arya.” 

“You are forgiven, Sam.” 

Jon thanked Sam and they quickly left his chambers, taking Arya’s arm. 

“Would you like to take a walk then?”

Arya shook her head and then dismissed the guards before throwing her arms around Jon’s neck in a childlike manner. 

“No guards, little wolf?” Jon asked curiously, wondering what she was up to. 

“I have something other than walking in mind,” Arya said before kissing his lips in a teasing manner. 

Jon laughed. “To our chambers now then?”

“What do you think?” Arya murmured against his lips before kissing him more deeply. Her belly only allowed her so much mobility, but Jon was keen to make do with the space he was given. 

“As I told you before, husband. Finish what you started… I am already ready for you,” she purred. 

“With pleasure, little wolf.” 

Before Arya could comprehend what happened, she felt herself being lifted into his arms. With a yelp she grabbed around his neck. 

“Jon! Put be down.” 

“I’ve got you, little wolf. Even heavy with our babe you’re lighter than most.” 

Arya’s face flushed bright red as they passed by a group of ladies’ maids and a few Septas. 

“They’re going to gossip like old hens, you know!” She said as soon as they were out of earshot. 

“Like they do not already do that, little wolf.” 

Arya buried her face in Jon’s shoulder, muttering words of his stupidity like she used to do when they were still children. 

As they reached their shared chambers, he commanded their dire wolves to stay outside the door. If anything went wrong, they would protect them better than most guards. 

Once inside the room, it did not take long for Jon to lay Arya on their bed of feathers and furs. The fire was roaring brightly, and her heart began to pound rapidly at the wolfish look on Jon’s face. 

Something happened to her King when she was with child. He became territorial and hungry with need. They were a love match, which made their bedroom a lively one. She never wanted for pleasure and neither did he… but every time she grew one of his pups a dangerous flame lit within him. She loved him for it. At a time when most women did not feel beautiful, he made her feel like a goddess or an unworldly being. 

He hovered above her, stripping her clean of her clothes in a slow and torturous way. He took his time with her. Gently massaging her swollen breasts before kissing down her belly. He lavished the marks the children had left with his tongue before biting and licking her inner thighs to the point where she’d almost come undone without even a touch to her center. 

“Jon, Jon, Jon, Jon,” she said like a chant. 

She felt his lips nip at the sensitive bud between her legs like a flickering candle flame. That was all it took for her undoing. Her body shuddered as her arousal flooded down between her thighs. The babe made her body feel like it was out of control and wanton like a Bravossi Courtesan. 

Just as Jon was about to delve his tongue between her folds, Arya stopped him, grabbing him by his curls and dragging him upwards. The look on his face was that of an accomplished man, she knew he felt powerful and he should. 

“My Queen,” he said, kissing her lips as if he was sipping the finest Dornish wine. 

“I need you to fuck me now, Jon. No more games.” 

“As my Queen commands.” 

Jon quickly stripped of his leathers and small clothes before returning to their bed. He stopped to look at her for a moment, his cock standing tall and proud. Arya fidgeted under his heated gaze, her body throbbing as it waited to sing beneath his hands. 

“You are truly a vision, little wolf. I want to remember you like this forever.” 

Arya felt her eyes prick with tears as she had a brief moment to appreciate how much she loved the man who stood before her. How much he was her perfect match. 

After his eyes drank their fill, he placed his hand on her hips and looked into her eyes with burning fire. 

“I want you on your knees, my wolf Queen. I want you to howl my name until your throat is raw and your body becomes boneless.” 

Arya moaned as he kissed that little spot behind her ear that made her weak and at his command. 

He helped her turn around so that she was kneeling on a pile of furs. He took care to make sure she was comfortable, and their babe was protected before he placed himself at her entrance. Arya felt his burned hand grip the soft flesh of her buttock while the other took hold of her hip. She cried out as his thick length slid easily into her. He waited for her to catch her breath before he started sliding in and out of her with practiced ease. As the friction built, Arya pushed back into him, wanting to feel more of him. 

Jon leaned forward so that he could embrace her from behind, placing one arm around her neck and chest, gripping her breast while the other rubbed the hard bud between her legs. They were kneeling together, Arya’s weight resting heavily against Jon’s hard chest as their knees took the rest. Soon she felt too much and leaned forward, Jon coming with her as he pounded into her with intention. Soon she was howling his name as he desired, unable to keep her pleasure from exploding through her body. With her name on his lips, Jon came with a loud groan, spilling his warm seed inside her as they shook together. 

Jon carefully pulled away from her body, pulling her still shaking form against his chest. 

“Did I satisfy you my Queen?” he asked after a few moments. 

“You already know the answer, my King,” she said breathlessly, kissing his dewy chest lightly. 

Jon got up from the bed and grabbed a water basin and a cloth. He carefully cleaned her, making sure his strokes were soft and light. Soon Arya was drifting off, her body relaxed and buzzing with pleasure. 

She felt Jon kiss her forehead and whisper words of love in her ear as he pulled the furs over her naked body. 

“Sleep, little wolf,” was the last thing she heard him say as she drifted off into a deep slumber.

 

Pain is what woke her from her sleep. Arya flew from her bed, grabbing her stomach and feeling a wetness coat her thighs. 

When she turned to Jon’s side of the bed he was no longer there. By the looks of the candles in the room it was evening now. She must have slept through dinner. Just then one of her handmaiden’s came in. 

“Your Grace, you are finally awake.”

“Maryella, I need you to help me dress. Then I would like you to please get the Maester and my husband. The birthing bed will need to be prepared as well,” Arya said as calmly as she could. 

Maryella’s eyes lit up as she bowed. “Yes, your Grace. Right away.” 

After Mayella had dressed and helped her clean herself and braid her hair, she stood. Feeling the sudden need to walk. 

It didn’t take long for Jon to rush into the room, his face flush and breath short from running. Sam was soon to follow, his chubby cheeks red and brow sweating with effort. 

Jon reached for her, letting her hands grip his forearms as a contraction hit her hard. 

“Are you well?”

“I am okay so far. It has just begun.”

“Your Grace… I mean, Arya,” Sam interrupted. “We’ve had a birthing bed prepared for you. Do you feel well enough to walk?”

“Yes. I can walk. In fact, I feel like I should keep walking.” 

“That is good, Arya. Hopefully your babe will come swift and quick.” 

“As long as he comes quicker than Visenya, I will be happy,” Arya said as she gripped Jon’s arms again. “Where is our daughter?”

“She is fine. Excited to meet her baby brother. But it is past her bedtime so I told her I would come get her in the morning. Though I have a feeling our curious pup will be up all-night waiting.” 

Jon helped Arya to the birthing room where several midwives and handmaidens were waiting. Arya could feel Robb dropping low and she knew he was coming much quicker than she thought. 

Her need to push came within a few hours, and soon her body was riddled with pain. Jon watched on in helplessness, trying to keep her calm and wipe her brow when she needed. 

“All right, your Grace. I need you to push,” one of her midwives said. 

Arya bared down for what felt like the thousandth time. As she felt the babe slip from her body, she threw her head back in pain. Somewhere in her mind she heard a pack of wolves howl along with her in the night. 

And then, a cry filled the room that was music to her ears. 

“A boy, your Grace,” she heard Sam announce. 

“Did you hear that, my Queen. Robb is here.” 

Arya let out a cry of relief, happy tears wetting her cheeks as a small squirming babe was placed into her weak arms. 

As she looked down upon him, her heart skipped a beat. Her dream had come true. Her little Robb was here. 

“He is beautiful, my love. Well done,” Jon whispered against her crown before kissing her. 

It did not take long for the babe to be cleaned and Arya as well. Once she was settled against fresh sheets, she asked for some privacy with Jon while the new babe fed from her breast for the first time. 

The fire crackled in the background of the room, as candles flicked their light against the dark stone walls. 

Jon had one arm wrapped around her shoulders as her head rested against his chest. She could not take her eyes off her little pup. The gods had blessed them once more. She knew she had her mother to thank for the body to birth three healthy children without much toil. 

“You should rest my love. You have had a long day.” 

“Aye… but I cannot stop looking upon his face. His hair is copper already, don’t you think?”

“I do. Robb suits him. I was thinking though, what if we gave him my Targaryen name in the middle. For my mother and Rhaegar.” 

“Robb Aegon Targaryen,” she said aloud. “I think it’s perfect.”

“I do as well.” 

Jon leaned over and kissed her lips with reverence. 

“You have made me very happy, my Queen.” 

“As have you, my King.” 

Just as they were about to kiss once more, the door to their chambers opened and a small silver head appeared. 

“Visenya!” Jon called as she carefully crept into the room and closed the door. “You are supposed to be sleeping.”

“I want to meet my brother. I heard the guards talking and they said Robb is here already! I could not sleep.”

Arya looked at Jon with a smile. Visenya was truly her daughter. Nothing could stop her when her curiosity got the best of her. 

“Come then, my love. Meet your little brother,” Arya said, beckoning her forward. 

Visenya quickly ran toward the bed, stopping just sort of her father’s side. Jon lifted her up and sat the small girl on his lap so she could get a closer look at the babe. 

“He is so little! Was I that little when I was born?”

“You were, my little pup. Maybe even a wee smaller.” 

Visneya looked on in awe at the tiny red thing in her mother’s arms. 

“Will I be able to teach him how to use a bow someday?”

“Of course. Someday when he is big and strong like you, you will be able to teach him, little dragon,” Jon said. Kissing the crown of her head. 

Satisfied with the answer, Visyena leaned forward and placed a delicate kiss upon little Robs head. 

“I love you, little Rob,” she whispered before pulling away and leaning against her father’s chest. 

Tears pricked Arya’s eyes and she quickly blinked them away. Jon held her closer and kissed Visenya’s forehead once more, before doing the same to his wife’s. 

As they lay together, Robb snug at her breast, and Visenya falling asleep in Jon’s arms, Arya knew she would never have another moment quite like this. 

Her pack was complete. She was never going to let go of them. At least not without a fight.


End file.
